Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
“We can use an upstairs bedroom,” I say, already beginning to turn to the hallway to the right. “Let’s go, sweetheart. It’s time.”
“What?” she gasps, turning sheet white. “We’re at your son’s wake, for crying out loud! You want to do it now?”
I wink, beckoning to her subtly.
“Now is as good of a time as any. Like I said, tick tock, tick tock.”
Again, Juliette’s struck speechless. She literally stares at my departing form, her jaw on the ground as I make my way to the darkened hallway. I pause before turning on my heels, waiting in the shadows to see what the beautiful girl will do. To my relief, Juliette begins to follow. Her patent Mary Janes tap behind me as I make my way up the staircase, and even that sound turns me into a fucking horndog because the curvy girl’s about to be defiled ... and I’m going to enjoy every second of it.
6
Juliette
I can’t believe the nerve of this man. At his son’s funeral too! Jordan Lewis wants to impregnate me with guests milling around downstairs, crying into their handkerchiefs while mourning the death of Harry. This man should be ashamed of himself.
Yet I know he isn’t, and the truth is that I’m not either. Some might call me clueless, but I see it as being realistic because Harry’s dead, and the dead don’t care what you do or don’t do. Funerals and wakes are for the survivors so that they have an opportunity to celebrate the lives of the departed while achieving closure. But the departed themselves? They’re six feet under, and it simply doesn’t matter to them.
So despite my outraged demeanor, I’m actually looking forward to being with Jordan, even though I know I shouldn’t. After all, the CEO is a despicable asshole who’s basically forcing me to have sex with him. Okay, maybe that’s not true. No one’s forcing me because the blood’s pulsing hot in my veins as I make my way up the stairs to the second level. My panties are damp, to tell the truth, and I can feel how my nipples pebble against the stiff fabric of my black dress. Oh my god, this is so wrong, and yet I want it so much.
This man wants to breed you, the voice in my head snarks. You’re not going to like it, and especially since it’s your first time. It always hurts during a woman’s first time, so why would yours be any different?
Yet I can’t help but hope for the best because somehow, I know that Jordan Lewis knows his way around a woman’s body. Yes, he and Harry’s mother divorced when Harry was an infant, but that doesn’t mean he’s been celibate. In fact, if I had to guess, the alpha male’s a man about town who gets so much pussy that it leaks out of his ears. He probably has women throwing their panties at him while begging for a night in his bed. Hell, watching his broad back disappear down the hall, I know that’s what I’d do. I’m about to be claimed by a man who’s experienced, intense, and hopefully hung as well.
What do you know about hung men? the voice in my head snarks again. You’re a virgin, Juliette. You know nothing about men, and here you are, about to be sliced and diced into mincemeat. Pathetic.
The voice might be right, and yet I can’t wait. With trembling knees, I follow Jordan into the last door at the end of the hall, and to my surprise, it’s the master suite. It’s enormous, of course, with picture windows that look out onto the gardens in back, and decorated with heavy wooden furniture. A reddish rug lies on the floor, but the centerpiece is the enormous king size bed that could fit a family. It’s done up in dark blue sheets, and looks both comfortable and luxurious at once.
“Welcome to mi casa,” Jordan says in a low tone while shutting the door. “The lair of the bear.”
I stand in the entryway, still stumped.
“I didn’t expect to use your personal bedroom,” I say in a halting tone. “Should we go somewhere else?”
“Like where?” Jordan asks, one of his black brows raised. “One of the guest suites? Would it make any difference? I can fuck anywhere, honey, so it’s up to you. Just make the call.”
I blush at his rude words, and yet a thrill runs through my tummy.
“Yes, it would make a difference,” I stammer. “I just thought ... I mean, your bedroom feels so personal.”
The alpha male stares at me, a smirk quirking at one corner of his mobile mouth. Oh my god, he thinks this is funny! I could slap him before climbing up that broad body and kissing his mouth with every ounce of passion in my being. But Jordan merely smirks again.